Poor Mad Girl
by Kate1234123
Summary: AU: After the rebellion was over, Katniss never recovered. She ended up just like Annie. Peeta's POV Completed.
1. Chapter 1

**AU: After the rebellion was over, Katniss never recovered.**

**Peeta's POV;**

Sweat beads on my fore-head and dirt had gathered under whats left of my knawed finger nails. I stand back, leaning on my shovel, admiring the yellow flowers that i had just planted. Katniss had told me to plant them, that she loved Dandelions. Though she never told me why, even when i asked. I look down at my watch, 10:00am. Visiting hours started in half-an hour. I drag myself inside, shower, change into my good clothes and put on my plain gold wedding ring, spinning it around a few times before i leave.

I push through the heavy glass doors of the large building. "Morning Peeta," Nods one of the guards. I continue past the receptionist who gives me a warm smile, tilting her head. The automatic door opens with a hiss and i am greeted with screams, cries and the occasional banging. I walk down the small corridor, passing the continual array of doors, trying not to look inside the rooms. I stop at the door that reads '65' and gaze inside the white room, through the small glass panel. A woman sits motionless on a thin, worn mattress, her brown, mattered hair covering her face. She's swaying from side to side, ever so slightly. I raise my hand and give a little tap on the thick glass, a sympathetic smile on my face. Her head drowsily sways around to look at me. It takes a little while for her to recognise, but she finally realises its me. Her husband. She jumps up, stumbling a bit, as i quickly unlock the door and enter.

"Peeta!" She sings, her face filled with delight. I take her in my arms, stroking the back of her hair down, taking in her warmth.

"Hey, Katniss." I soothe, swaying with her. She pulls back and looks into my eyes, those hurt eyes. "I dont like it here Peeta," she cries, "i can't sleep without you." She told me this every time, whether its because she forgets she said it, or shes trying to make me feel guilty about it. With all these crazed wails, i know i wouldn't be able to sleep either. I look down at her hands on my shirt and see the new bandages on her wrists. She quickly pulls away when she notices ive seen them.

"This is why you cant come home Katniss." I utter. After all the attempts of suicide, the hospital chucked her in this place, saying it would help her. How on earth did she do it anyway? Wasn't this supposed to be a sharp free zone? "How?" I croak out, thinking of how this wouldn't have happened if she was in my arms. She rubs her hands together and mumbles, "My nails." I see her nails that have been cut down and rounded. "I started thinking of the baby." And thats all it took for the tears to spill down my face. My heartaches as i remember; 8 Months in, Katniss was quite big. I come home from a day at the bakery. I search the house. She's no where. I head to the bedroom. Nope. I open the door to our bathroom. Blood and faeces cover the white tiles. Katniss is doubled over, holding her stomach. Her body trembles, quiet moans escape her mouth. Something is in her arms. Our baby. Our dead, unborn baby.

A buzzer comes from above us, cutting me from my 's head whips upward. "No!" she screams, pulling me away from the door.

"Katniss-" I cry, still crying.

"No! No! No!" She wails, knowing that the noise means its time for me to go. I dont want to leave, i want to stay, i want to take her home. I want to protect her from all these noises, all the nightmares, the memories. As usual the men in white come and pry her from me, other hands shove me out the door, pushing me down the hallway. All i can hear is her muffled cries, her blood-curdling screams. They drown out the further away i get. Tears stain my face and there's only one sentence that runs through my mind.

'Poor mad girl.'


	2. Chapter 2

I slam the door shut behind me, hard. The picture of us at our wedding day falls to the ground, smashing on the floor beside me. I stand there, motionless, looking at the photo. Katniss, looking so beautiful, so stable. Her white wedding dress, hemmed at the waist and flowing right down to the ground. Oh what I'd do to go back to those days. The days that Katniss would _try _and take me out hunting. The days we would lounge around in bed all day. The days I would sit around and paint her for hours. I couldn't think of anything better.  
My heart aches, longing to be back there, in those perfect moments. I clench my fists, feeling defeated, enraged about our situation. Instead of living those days, Katniss was locked away in that dreadful rehab centre, like some kind of criminal. I knew it was doing more worse than good. She was getting worse each time I'd visit. If only she could get out and about, do something productive in there. But the suicidal patients were put away under lock and key. I shouldn't have even taken her to the hospital that day, but if I didn't she would defiantly be dead now.

It was a cool summer's morning when I felt Katniss creep out of bed. I thought of it as nothing, she was just getting up, ready to start her day. I hear her tip toe into the bathroom, shutting the door silently behind her. She never shut the door, we were married and comfortable with eachother. I hear the lock click. Why was she locking it? I hear her rumbling through the cupboards and I sit up, facing the bathroom door. I wondered what on earth she could be doing in there. Then its silence, for an uncomfortably long time. "Katniss?" I call tentivly. No reply. "Katniss," I say, hopping out of bed, making my way over to the closed door, "I know your in there!" I hear something spill all over the floor. Lots of things, little things. My eyes fly open, no longer drowsy. Pills. I throw myself into the door, again and again, feeling a new bruise emerge each time. "Katniss!" I scream, now resorting to kicking. I hear her moan in pain, "Move away from the door!" I yell, getting a run up. I lunge forward, splintering the door into pieces as my shoulder makes contact. She lies there, on the floor, empty container of sleeping pills in hand. Her eyes rolling into the back of her head, foam spilling from her mouth.

I fall to the ground, trying to stop my hands from shaking as I pick up the shattered pieces of glass. My breathing is heavy and I'm on the verge of tears. I stop, rolling the glass in my fingers, creating little cuts. Maybe I should try it. Wasn't it was Katniss does when she's upset? I press the splint of glass against my skin, not hard enough to cut, just testing. "No!" I scream, throwing the glass back on the floor, refusing to give in. What on earth would happen to Katniss if I died, she'd be nothing, she's have nothing, be completely mad for sure.

I run out the door, taking advantage of my moment of strength. I head to the most familiar place I could think of.

The Meadow.


	3. Chapter 3

I stand at the edge of the meadow, head back, inhaling deeply. The yellow flowers give off the sweetest scent, a thing that reminds me of a better time. I kneel down, picking a single flower and examining it in my hand. Its petals contained the most vibrant yellow, a colour I am yet to master. Not too bright, not too dull. One would say, perfect. My gaze falls past the flower, down to the ground, where I press my hands firmly into the earth. This here, was district 12. Down there, under this sea of yellow, lays the hundreds of innocents who were not lucky enough to escape the fire. My friends, family, anyone I'd ever cared about, gone. Buried under this layer of dirt. I feel a slight pang in the back of my brain, hot and all too familiar. I find myself starting to tremble.  
Katniss killed these people, started the rebellion, caused the fire. She brought this onto them! Images of screaming children burning to death, skin red and raw. People fleeing the district. Panicked looks, searching for their families. Screams and gurgled cries when they find the bodies. My family, trapped inside the bakery. I can see it now, them huddled in the bathroom, clinging on to each other for dear life, literally burning to death.  
All the while, Katniss sits in 13 turning a blind eye, locking herself away. That stinking mutt! That coward! She should be one whose dead, not my family.  
My eyes fly open and I can feel the remains of the Tracker-Jacker venom coursing through my veins. "It's not real. Not her, she's not a mutt. She's your wife, your beautiful wife." I murmur, reassuring myself that it was just the venom talking. Clumps of dirt and flowers are solid in my hands and I relax, letting the crushed blossoms fall back down to the ground.  
In times where I lost control, I just had to hold on and fight through it. I'd always be fine in the end, Katniss had learned to steer clear when I had the rare occasion. Although it had been happening a lot lately. I put it down to the fact that Katniss isn't here. That I need her to stay by in for me to keep my sanity. Without her, I was loosing it myself.  
Maybe that's what it would take for us to be together in the end?  
Forget the Star-crossed lovers from District 12.  
The deranged-lost lovers from district 12.


	4. Chapter 4

A single dandelion rests in the centre of the mahogany table. Its bright petals slightly withered, yearning for water. I hold the pallet in one hand, brush in the other. Mixing whites with oranges, yellows with red, trying to desperately to find that perfect hue. I continue to experiment until my pallet contains only a brown mess. A defeated sigh escapes my lips as I put down my utensils in defeat. I'd lost track of time in my attept, seeing that the time was now 10:30am. My heart rises to my throat. I had missed visiting hours.

I take out of the house, not bothering to put on shoes or lock the front door. Paint is still caked my hands as they propel beside me, helping me run faster. I had never missed a visiting session! Not one! I shouldn't have even began painting this morning, I know that I get in a zone when I paint, forgetting about the world that surrounds me. It's just me, the brush and the canvas. I burst through the front doors, panting as I reach the front desk. "I need to see her! I lost track of time! You know I've never missed a visit!" The woman doesn't want to make eye contact with me. She obviously knows that if she sees how desperate I am, she won't be able to say no.  
"I'm sorry Mr. Mellark, I can't let you through." I run a hand over my hair and realise how much of I mess I must be right now.  
"Please! I'm begging you. She needs me, I need her!" Katniss would be distraught and I know exactly what she'd be thinking, 'he's finally given up on me.' I couldn't let her think that, I promised had 'Always'.  
"Peeta," the woman says, finally looking up at me, "I can't." This was the first time I'd really paid much attention to the receptionist. Deep brown eyes with long hair to match, blood red lips and a skin tone that reminded me of porcelain, a very pretty woman.  
"I'm begging you!" I cry, thinking of what Katniss could be doing to herself at this moment.  
"No Peeta, I literally can't. Katniss took a bad turn last night, something happened." I glare at the woman, who has a hand under the desk, obviously ready to press an emergency button. I felt kind of put off at the action, that she thought I was going loose it, that I wasn't able to control myself.  
"W-What? Why did nobody tell me!" I breathed through gritted teeth.  
"We tried to call! We really did! But there was no answer!" She stammered, inching away from me in her chair.  
"Then you should have called again!" I hissed, leaning over the desk, closer to her. She has started to shake and her eyes welt up with tears, she was scared. Of me. I freeze, realising how frightening I must be at this point. I take a deep breath, stepping away from the now weeping woman. I unclench my fists looking around. Everyone was staring, even the body guards had done nothing to stop me. Were they scared too? "Let him in." a voice booms from the hallway. The receptionist takes a shaky hand and flicks a switch to open the doors. I clear my throat and wander down the well-lit hall.


	5. Chapter 5

I sit in the lounge of the hospital, twiddling my thumbs together. I had been instructed to wait here, that someone would be with me shortly. Steaming beverages and biscuits lay on the small table in front of me. I eye off the snacks, stomach egging me on. I reach forward, taking one cookie. They were average, a little stale. I started thinking of ways that the flavour could be improved. Perhaps a dash of cocoa powder? My mouth turns dry and I can hear the hot liquid call my name, reaching forward, I bring the cup up to my lips. I freeze after I take my first sip. Hot chocolate. The mug slips from my hands, smashing onto the tiles below me. I grip to the sides of the chair I am in, trying to control the trembling.  
My mind raced back to the time with Katniss, in the train, where we had watched Haymitch's first games, had that tight, warm embrace, tasted our first hot chocolate. The tears streaming down my face are warm and salty, leaving my face feeling sticky. I quickly wipe my face when I hear the door open, kneeling to pick up the shattered glass, trying not to get covered in the sweet drink that had spread across the floor.

"Let me help you Peeta," a voice calls from behind me. Another pair of hands come down to help me, mopping up the mess with a teatowel.  
"Thank-you." I sniff, looking up to see the man in a white robe. He was obviously a Doctor, what with his stethoscope and all.  
"Im Dr. Jones," he says with an out stretched hand, "head of psychology."  
"Peeta Mellark," I answer, "Baker." He gives me a warm smile. After we clean up the rest off the glass, he tells me about my wife.  
"Well," he says as we walk through the asylum part of the hospital, "something happened with Katniss last night." He must have seen my worried look because he immediately reassured me, "She's fine! Physically, she's fine.. She just. Well, I think its better if you see for yourself." I had so many questions, was she okay? Will she get better? Does she remember me? But I sensed this would all be answered when we get to our destination. No one speaks as we continue through the winding halls. We get to a plain door with a sign that reads 'Authorised Personnel Only'.  
"Right through here Peeta," Dr. Jones speaks, opening the door to let me through. There are already 2 other Doctors in there, which continue to work, even after we enter. There are a number of machines in this small room, monitors it looks like. Then I see the small screen. My heart starts beating when I see who is on the screen.  
It's Katniss.


	6. Chapter 6

I fall down to my knees when I see her figure on the screen. I recognised this footage, and the Venom in my veins second that. This footage was used on me when I was captured. The promo footage from the rebellion. There she is, standing tall, looking for fierce and strong with her bow raised high. One of the Doctors catch me as I stumble backwards. I pry my eyes from the screen, feeling myself become grounded again. "Were aware of the situation you were in whilst being held captive Peeta," states a woman, also in white. I nod, dusting myself off. "Come over here please," she says, taking me to a door. We enter and it's a small room with tables, a glass panel to my right. I freeze when I see her on the other side, shackled down to the bed by restraints.

It's quite ironic really. It's like our roles have been reversed. I remember when I got back from the Capitol to 13, how that was me there on the bed and Katniss was the one having to watch.  
"What's happened to her?" I cry, pressing my palm up against the one-way glass.  
"Her brain pretty much just went into overload. We think she's experienced a dream whilst sleeping and it's just pushed her over the edge." She replies.  
"But whats wrong with her?" I croak, trying so hard to stop the tears.  
"Were not really sure.. What we do know is that she's completely lost it. She's taken some of her memories and somehow, they've turned into nightmares. Her brains has just done it, no idea how, but it did. Kind of like how you were injected with the Tacker-Jacker venom and… Well, you know the rest." All I can do is stare at Katniss, laying still with the occasional twitch.  
"H-Has she mentioned.. M-Me?" I stutter, trying to control my weeping.  
"No. She hasn't asked for you... We were hoping you could go in and try talk to her, see how it goes." I don't say a word. I just weep, and cry, never taking my trembling hands from the glass. I press my fore-head against the glass, closing my eyes, feeling my heart break into a thousand pieces. She would hate me. Like I used to hate her. We would never be together, never have our little family, never share another loving moment. It was hard to me to recover from it, it took months, and even now I sometimes had my moments. Katniss was broken, she wouldn't have the will to fight.  
"I'm sorry." The woman whispers before leaving me alone in the small room.


	7. Chapter 7

I'm probably alone in the room for around 15 minutes and in that time, a lot of things rush through my head. Of course I feel pain, because I've lost her. The love of my life, has fallen into a pit she won't be able to climb out of, lost forever. But then I feel worthless, because I know that I won't be able to help, like she couldn't help me. The wait would be long and gruelling, just like when she was waiting for me.  
She still lays on the bed, stiff. Her eyes are open, are hardly blinking, just staring into the abyss. What could be happening in her supple mind. I want to reach through the glass, into her head. Unravel all the conflicting memories, mend her, make her better. Hopefully, with time, I can.

I'm forced to pull myself together when the woman returns, she doesn't say a word though, just holds the door open waiting for me to enter back inside the monitoring area. I realise I am now in the corner of the room, knees up against my chest. I swallow and get up, not making eye contact with her as I do. I think I hear her sobbing slightly. No, it's probably just me. Dr. Jones sits at a table that wasn't there before. On the surface lies a few vials of green liquid, syringes and a television. It's like I could actually feel my heart rise up into my throat. I swallow the vomit back down and look to Dr. Jones.  
"No." I say sternly, "No, no, no ,no."  
"Peeta," he says turning to face me, "It's not what you think, just let me explain our idea." I clench my jaw as I wait for his explanation. "Well, as you probably know, there has been records of using track-jacker venom to reverse these kinds of mental illnesses, I'm guessing they thought about trying it on you, yes? But didn't have sufficient research to proceed?" I nod, "Well, we do have the knowledge of these kinds of tests and the results are actually very good. The patients get better in only a few months." I few months, I'd only have to wait a few months, "That's only if it all goes well of course." Yes, of course there was a catch. I try to keep my breathing steady as I process what he is suggesting.  
"But first, we want to just try something simple," I look at him expectantly, "we want to you to go talk to her…"


	8. Chapter 8

My hand is tight against the door knob. What I'll find on the other side, I'm not quite sure. Who knows what kind of monster Katniss's mind has turned me into? Perhaps she will be terrified of me, maybe she won't even be able to look me in the eye. I suppose none of these questions will be answered if I keep standing here. I look over at Dr. Jones and his assistants, all with clipboards and pens ready. I notice that the receptionist has now joined us, her eye make-up a little smudged. Why was she even here? Dr. Jones gives me a light nod, gesturing towards Katniss through the glass. I inhale deeply, slowly twisting the cold handle.

I take my time getting through the door, shutting is slowly behind me. I don't close it though; I leave it slightly ajar, ready to make a quick escape when she starts screaming terrible things at me. I slowly inch closer to my wife, watching her every facial twitch. Suddenly her head snaps towards me, causing me to jump. I wait, wait for her to scream, to cry, to run. But she doesn't do any of these things. She just lays there, pinned down, hands slightly twitching. Staring, just staring.

This continues for quite a while, out stare down. It takes everything I have to not break down into tears, but I was told to stay strong. I look towards the one way panel, only getting my own worried reflection in return. I guess I'm on my own on this one.  
"Hey Katniss," I say shakily, facing her again.  
"Hello," she replies. Her voice is so hollow, no excitement, no joy. No Katniss.  
"How are you?" I ask. She looks down at her leather restraints, pulling against them slightly.  
"I don't know," she says. She turns to me again, with the most heart breaking expression on her face. I feel my lip start to tremble, eyes start to sting. Though she isn't trying to hurt me. That's good right? She still must love me? This thought brings a small smile to my face. Something in her face recognises this emotion and she returns it with her own smirk. I no longer feel like crying, it was still her, nothing was wrong after all. I walk a little closer, all the way to the side of her bed. I hold her hand in mine, giving it a gentle squeeze.  
"What's your name?" She asks. It's like I've been hit by a train. All the air in my lungs just left me, I can't even breathe.

I feel my face twitching, eyes grow wide..  
She couldn't have forgotten me, no way. After all we've been through? After The Games, the rebellion? I loud and hearty laugh escapes my lips, sounding crazed even to my ears. This was all just a big joke right? A way to get back at my for missing Katniss's visitng hours. Funny, real funny.  
But then I actually look at her face. A hint of concern and a lot of confusion.  
"I don't see what's so funny!" She retorts, looking a little insecure. She was serious..  
She had no idea who I was…  
Her husband, was now a stranger…


	9. Chapter 9

I wanted to stay and sort everything out, but I guess my feet had other ideas because before I know it, I'm outside of the small asylum. I rub my eyes, trying to focus on my outside surroundings. People were just going about their everyday jobs. Why? Katniss forgot who I was, why hadn't the whole of Panem stopped moving? Tried to help us star-crossed lovers? Then I remembered no one gave a damn about us after the scars of the rebellion had healed. I see a blonde woman waving her arms in front of me, closing in. I squint, trying to make out who this slim figure was. I realise its Delly, who greets me with a flying embrace.

"Peeta! I haven't seen you in ages! I was starting to worry." She pulls back to take a look at me, arm still around my shoulders. I must be crying or something because she just pulls me back into another hug, hushing soothing things until my sobbing ceases. She takes me to a nearby shaded tree, gesturing for me to sit on the wooden bench.  
"What's happened?" She asks, the most genuine look spread across her face. That's the thing I loved me most about my old friend, she cared when no one else did.  
"K-Katniss," I stutter, starting to tremble. She puts a warm arm around me, calming me down again.  
"Let's try again shall we?" she soothes. I nod in response, clearing my husky throat.  
"She- She… She doesn't know who I am!" I blurt out, falling into another round of sobs. In the end, we realise me trying to explain the situation without breaking down was near impossible. So I just grab her hand, and pull her back into the sterile building. We make our way back into the examination room where were greeted by the same group of Doctors. For some reason, the receptionist is still there too. Was she qualified too? Unlikely. She probably just felt sorry for us, one of the few that did.

Delly stays with the people in white while I'm ushered back to the glass windowed room, followed by the receptionist. I don't acknowledge her at all though; I just stand in front of the panel which separates me from my wife, not brave enough to open my eyes.  
"I'm sorry. Truly, you cannot imagine the sympathy I have for you two." Yes, the receptionists words seem very genuine, but I had never done anything for her. I don't know why, but I laugh. Maybe it was because I didn't believe her or I thought she wanted something from me whilst I was in my fragile state.  
"Excuse me?" she spits, spinning me around from the glass. I still don't open my eyes, not wanting to face reality, trying to wake from this terrible nightmare.  
"Excuse. Me!" she says, a little more firmly. Wake up Peeta. Your dreaming, she still loves you, this isn't real.

I had never been slapped before, but boy, did it hurt! I can feel my heart in my cheek as I clasp my face tightly in my hands. My tear make me eyes sting too, or maybe her nail just scratched me? What was up with this woman!

"Your not the only one to have gone through this! How about you listen to what I have to say before you start jumping to conclusions!" She yells.  
"Wait," I say, my hand still cupping my cheek, "what?"


	10. Chapter 10

After my cheek stops throbbing and the woman calms down, she explains her situation to me. I had heard rumours about people being hi-jacked, and having the symptoms reversed with the same venom. Turns out, her father was one of these people, except his experience didn't go too well. He didn't recover like me, he got worse and that's why the turned to trying the reverse, like they want to do with Katniss. Though this treatment just made his hallucinations more vivid, and in the end he took his own life. I try to imagine finding Katniss, hanging from an awning, noose around her neck. Even thinking of it makes me sick to my stomach.

Of course I have opened my eyes now, watching every hint of emotion show on her face though I still don't turn around, not wanting to face Katniss. She was telling the truth alright, her eyes teary and blood shot, her words were shaky and heart-felt. When she finishes there is nothing but silence, just her words ticking over in my head. We could try the treatment on Katniss, risk it making her worse. Of course there had been accounts of the procedure running smoothly, but nothing really confirmed, just rumours. Or we could just leave her, let her try and fight it herself, like I did. But I had will power; I knew my memories weren't right, still there, just not right. But Katniss had lost all of our memories full stop, to what extent, I don't know. We must have been sitting there for a good couple of minutes until she breaks the silence,  
"My names April." She says with an outstretched hand. I take it and nod,  
"Peeta." I reply. I don't even know why I said my name, of course she already knew. Habit I guess. "And I'm sorry about your Father," I finish.  
"Thank you." She says, a warm smile on her face. I pull away quickly when I realise our hands were still holding. Too long, that hand shake was too long. Delly pops her head through the door, a beaming smile shown as usual. I find myself smiling too, her grin was definatly contagious, could light up any room.  
"Peeta, do you think you could maybe.. Go back in. Try again? I'll come with you if you want?" I suppose that could help, Delly coming in with me, keeping me strong.  
"Okay Delly, let's try again."  
She smiles and pops back in to the Doctors for just a moment, returning with a manila folder. Her hand guides me to the door. I don't open it though, just stand there, frozen, actually forgetting what to do.  
"Come on Peeta, I'm going to be by your side the whole time."  
I take a deep breath and open the door.

Katniss is no longer tied down, just sitting on the edge of the bed, face in her hands. I clear my throat. She doesn't look up.  
"Katniss?" I ask wearily. Her head whips up, staring right into my eyes. Her grey pupils shining, glossed with her tears.

She's crying…


	11. Chapter 11

I throw myself into her arms. I don't even mean it. If the love of your life is hurting, you comfort them, it's just instinct. She doesn't hug me back though, which dis-heartens me a little. But I know it would be odd to her, to have a complete stranger hugging her. She doesn't force me off her though, which is a plus. I know I could have held her forever and so did Delly apparently,  
"Katniss?" she asks, getting my wife's attention. I get the hint and pull away, backing besides Delly again. You can see it ticking over in Katniss's mind. Did she know this woman?  
"Delly!" she smiles, getting up to hug her. I'm in shock. That's my Katniss, right there. She always did have a soft spot for Delly though, thought she had the kindest soul. And she does. They start having a normal conversation, how the other was, what they have been up to. I stay out of the way as they converse, sitting on Katniss's bed. Delly fills her in about her mind shutting down, her not remembering certain events or people. As I listen I find out the following things.

Katniss knows she's in a mental asylum.

Katniss knows she had tried to kill herself, that's why she's here.

Katniss knows about the rebellion.

Katniss knows about the games she was in.

Katniss recalls nothing of a boy that was with her the whole time.

She's forgotten me. Completely.

Delly asks if she is sure there was no male with her through it all. Katniss thinks for a moment before replying. I can see her concentrating, trying to search for something that wasn't there, "Wait!" she exclaims. I swear I stop breathing, jumping to my feet off the bed. She remembered me!  
"Gale!" she squeals. I slump back down onto the mattress. Delly shoots me a look of sympathy.  
"Yes, Gale was involved, but he wasn't there with you though it all!" she tries, frustration easily detected.  
"I- I don't think," she cuts herself off, furrowing her brows, "No. There was no one with me. I think. I was alone, through it all. Through the first games, through the second, through the rebellion."  
"But there had to be Katniss! Think about it, one girl and boy from each district. There was a boy with you! The whole time!" Delly fumbles with the folder in her hands.  
"Well, of course there was. But it was just some boy! I can't even remember what he looked like!" she whines.

'Me,' I think, 'it was me.' At least when I was Hi-Jacked there were some memories that the Capitol didn't touch, things like the bread. Things that I could think over, things that pushed me to look for answers. But Katniss's mind completely wiped any recollection of me. Why, I will never understand. At least she didn't hate me I guess. Katniss rubs her hands together, coming upon her wedding ring. I watch her closely, ready for her to realise she's married to me.  
"I'm married?" she asks Delly.

Delly nods, "Do you remember to who?" Katniss has to think this over for a little bit, rolling the gold around her finger like I so often do. I bite my lip, forcing myself to not blurt out that her husband is me. I was told not to force it upon her.  
"To…" Katniss thinks, "To Gale?" she says finally. Of course she would think Gale. She's the only male she can remember that she loves. They grew up together, looked out for each other, shared so many memories. I was always so sickly jealous of the connection they shared, especially before the games. Why couldn't she forget Gale and remember me!

"No!" I yell, getting a stern look from Delly and a confused one from Katniss, "Me! Your married to me!" I hold up my hand to her, "Look!" I exclaim, taking the ring of to show the engravement on the inside. She takes it from me cautiously, reading allowed the imprint,  
"Real." She whispers. I single tear falls down my cheek. She was just reading, she didn't actually remember, it wasn't real.  
"Look at yours." I whisper, helping her take her own ring off. I show her the inside of hers as well, holding them side by side. Hers also read 'real', the two rings were a perfect match.  
"Real," she whispers again, gazing into my eyes.  
Then she kisses me…


	12. Chapter 12

The kiss takes me completely off guard, nearly bowling me over. It's defiantly a nice kiss and I'm not complaining, but this wasn't a kiss from my wife. It was a kiss from a stranger. She pulls away slowly, never breaking my gaze. She was just experimenting, trying to provoke all those lost memories. Katniss shakes her head slowly,  
"No," she runs a hand through her hair, "it doesn't feel right." I nod, sitting back down once again.  
"I'm sorry," she says before turning back to Delly.

I watch the two women, how normal they are. How Katniss is completely fine and not freaking out. They talk about times at school and times in the rebellion. The whole duration I'm not brought up once, even when Delly asks what she remembers about the group from 13 going to the capitol to rescue someone. She says they went to rescue Johanna, no one else. Of course…

I pretty much zone out for the rest of their little conversation, laying back staring at the white roof. I find my eyes closing, but I don't sleep, just resting. Then I hear a new topic pop up between the two of them.

"Is he asleep?" I hear Katniss ask.  
"Looks like it," Delly answers. It's silence for a little bit, maybe they have run out of things to talk about.  
"Is it true? Is he really my husband? Please just tell me the truth"  
"It is the truth Katniss. Peeta was reaped the same year as you. You both won the first games, you saved his life, he saved yours. He's been madly in love with you ever since pre-school."  
"I thought I was the only one to win the first games?"  
"Nope," Delly says, "the two of you won. It was what started the rebellion really. You would rather kill yourselves then live without the other. So they had to let you both win, didn't they."  
"Oh," Katniss sighs, falling silent. You can almost hear her ticking over, trying to search for this lost boy, "Does he still love me?"  
"Of course Katniss!" Delly muses, almost shocked at her question, "Always has, always will."  
"I feel sorry for him."

I'd only just noticed something just now. The old Katniss, the sane one, she's back. She doesn't seem depressed at all, she seems happy even. She doesn't even need to be in this crazy house anymore. Take away the whole idea of me, and she's normal. She doesn't need me, her mind knows it, that's why it erased anything to do with me. This is the thing that will save her, I realise. The only way Katniss will recover, is if she lives a life without me. But that thinking is ruled out when I hear what is said next.

I hear come ruffling, pieces of paper maybe?  
"Look," I hear Delly order to Katniss. Then it's silence again. Every now and then paper would be moved around, but that's it, no talking. I have to see what it is there looking at. My eyes open and I push myself up slowly. Quietly, I make my way over to the two of them, there now standing around a small table. I cant see what their looking at though. They don't seem to have noticed me as I move along behind them. I can see that they are pictures from here now.

There pictures are of me. It's like a slide show of my life really. Me baking, Me half-dead in the first games, Me getting crowned as victor, Me getting mauled by orange mutts, me giving Katniss the pearl. The list goes on and on. I nearly jump out of my skin when Katniss smashes her fists on the table.  
"Why can't I remember him! Of course it's real, I can see it right in front of me!" Katniss rages, flicking through more photos. But she stops when she comes to an old photo of me as a child. It's a rainy day, and I'm outside splashing around in puddles, biggest smile of my face. Next to me is my father. Seeing his face makes my heart wrench. I missed him dearly. His welcoming arms, his kind soul,  
"Wait." Katniss says abruptly, holding the picture out to Delly, "This.. That's the local Baker, we always used to trade. And He had a son, he always used to look at me funny. Some days, when the boy was serving at the stall, we would trade and he would always give me an extra loaf, always." She falls silent for a moment, letting the photo drop from her hands. Delly holds her shoulders, steadying her,  
"Are you alright? What is it? Katniss?" Delly pants,

"He- He's the boy with the bread!" She announces.


	13. Chapter 13

"Do you remember?" I say a little too loudly. They both jump, turning around to face me. I swear Katniss was about to attack me she was that frightened. Her breathing slows and she creeps a little closer to me.  
"You," she points, "you saved my life. And P-Prim's, and my mothers. That bread, the burnt bread." I can hear her voice shake as she puts the pieces together.  
"That's right," I nod, watching her closely. Her eyes bore into me expectantly, so I tell her what she yearns to hear.  
"Your-Your father had just passed away in the mining accident. You were left to keep your family alive, but winter came and the food got scarce. I was up in my room, looking out across the town square. I saw a girl, you, cowering under a tree, away from the harsh rain," Katniss closes her eyes, "I heard my mother call me, time to bake. But I left the bread in for too long on purpose, not long enough too burn it to a crisp, just not sellable. Of course I was punished, but it didn't matter. You were starving. I go out to give the bread to the pigs, but I don't. I threw it to you, made you have to run and grab them, made them muddy. I should have just walked and given them to you, talked to you. But I was scared." Katniss nods slowly, opening her eyes again. I look over at Delly who was trying to give us some privacy, collecting all the photos of me. I think she actually has tears in her eyes,  
"I remember. I do. The next day at school, I saw you at the front gate. I was going to thank you, but I was too scared as well. I- I think I picked a flower." She hushes.  
"A dandelion," I finish.  
"I- I need some time to think." She whispers, walking over to the bed, laying down on it and closing her teary eyes. I want to stay though, I want to tell her more stories, help her to remember me. Delly takes my arm and pulls me to the door.  
"Wait," Katniss orders. Delly and I both stop and turn back to Katniss, who I still laying with her eyes closed, "Leave the folder." She says, gesturing towards the table.  
Delly turns around with photos and places them gently on the hard surface.  
And then we leave. I'm told that today we have made great progress. Dr. Jones orders me home, telling me to rest up and return when he asks. As much as I refuse and ask to stay, I don't win.

Delly walks me home, makes me food which I don't eat and leaves. I sit at the dining room table, playing around with my dinner. It's cold an no longer appealing. I pick the plate up, weighing it in my hands before I throw it into the wall. I don't want to eat, I just want be with Katniss. I race up stairs to our bedroom, rifling through the cupboard. I pull out my canvas and paints, placing them on my easel. I swirl colours around, experimenting until I found the colour I was picturing.

I take a deep breath, steadying my hand, leaving reality and entering my own little world.


	14. Chapter 14

The girl I see before me is absolutely beautiful. Grey seam eyes, glistening blonde hair. Her dress is a baby pink, flowing slightly in the wind and the meadow behind her is alive with colour. I stand back from our daughter, admiring her beauty. I part my lips, only to have a sigh escape them. Oh how badly I wish my daughter was alive. I take the canvas from the easel, walk over to the plain wall and hang it, right in the centre.  
"One day," I promise, "you'll be in my arms."

I look to the clock which reads 2 am. "That can't be right," I utter under my breath. Time always did fly when I was painting I guess. I turn out the lights and flop back onto out bed, rolling on my side so I can look at my daughter. I don't know how long I was lying there, must have been a couple of hours because by the time I actually fall asleep, the sun is rising. My sleep is filled with tiring dreams. Dreams where I must follow Katniss, where she wants to show me something but we never arrive. Dreams where our beautiful daughter is reaped in the games. Death is a common occurrence in these nightmares.

I snap up right, a noise waking me from my slumber. Not wanting to miss the call, I dart downstairs grabbing the phone before it rings out,  
"Hello?" I breathe, my voice husky from sleep. Silence greets me on the other line, "Hello? Dr. Jones?" I hear hushed whispers on the other side and then she speaks up.  
"Hi, Peeta. It's Katniss." She says, her voice strong and familiar. Why was she calling me?  
"Hi.." I breathe.  
"I just wanted to ask you a quick question," she states.  
"Go ahead,"  
"Well, I had a dream last night,"  
"Mhmm?"  
"And I don't know if it was real or not real," she says, voice a little shaky. I wait for her to continue,  
"In my dream, I'm pregnant. I'm home alone, singing in the kitchen, making dinner, waiting for you to come home from the…. The bakery? I feel happy, really happy. Then all of a sudden im in the bathroom. And… All I can see is red.. Blood." My eyes are squeezed shut, trapping any tears trying to escape. Katniss described a nightmare, not a dream. And what makes it worse is that, it's real.  
"Peeta?" she asks, not even slightly phased by her vision. I open my mouth to talk, but nothing comes out. "Peeta, are you there? Peeta?" She sounds so stable, she sounds like my Katniss. If she remembers that, I wonder what else she will recall over time. Will I be able to take her bringing up all the things I try to forget. "P-Peeta, please." She quivers. She sounds scared now, vulnerable. "It really happened didn't it? It's real!" She starts to sob, like she used to at night, when she woke from her nightmares. I used to hold her for hours on end, telling her I'd never leave, never let go. And here I am, not able to speak, leaving her in the dark and without a shoulder to cry on. Some strangled wailing escapes me, like im in pain. But she doesn't hang up and nor do i. We stay on the line and cry together, both hurt and agonised from the traumatising event.  
"I'm sorry!" she blurts out, sniffing loudly, still crying.

Then she hangs up.  
I spend the rest of the afternoon laying on the cold, hard floor, crying until I have no tears left. I feel like my heart has literally been ripped in two. I ache for Katniss, needing her with me. We would normally hold eachother in times like this. But im alone, no one to hold me, to tell me everything's going to be okay.

All I have is the echo of my own cries.


	15. Chapter 15

**Katniss's POV:**

The shackles that used to bind my wrists have been removed from my hospital bed. I think they've finally realised that I'm harmless. I am forced to spend my days in this room, it's white walls closing in a little more each hour. I feel confined, like a lab rat. I guess I always have been one though, running around through a maze people have set up for me to finish. In the end I found the 'cheese' in the end, helped our side win the rebellion. But what have I really achieved? So 24 kids don't die every year? We still struggle for food in the districts while all the important people hide away in the capitol. And Prim, Prim's dead. I lost Gale, my mother can't stand to look at me, too many bad memories lie with her daughter. I have no one..  
But then there's this Peeta guy, my… My husband. If the doctors and Delly are telling the truth, he was with me through everything, I even risked my own life to save this man. I even married him. I even attempted to start a family with him.

I walk over to the single table in the corner, pictures of him sprawled across it's surface. All I do is stare at these photos, trying to scrape the memory up. I flick through shots of him until I come across a photo with me in it. There I am, in my white dress, him in nice slacks and button up shirt. Yep, it's our wedding alright, but I can't remember it. I try to remember, but there's absolutely nothing. Only when I sleep does my sub conscious yearn for him, bringing up certain events. There not big things though, just stuff like us sitting down at a table, eating breakfast. Us sitting by the fire. Us crying in each others arms because we both hurt so badly inside.

I glance over at the reflective panel on the wall, greeted by my own reflection. They could at least put some more clothes on me. All I wear is a hospital robe, my hair free, falling down my back. Why was I being confined like this? I'm not even sick! I just don't remember Peeta, that's all. I'm sure that's something that would heal over time. I can only hope. From pictures and stories it sounds like this guy was a real catch, that I really did love him. I know who he is, I just cant remember where from! What we've done! It makes my brain ache every time I try to conjure up any information.

I just want Gale. He'd tell me it straight, maybe even get me out of here. But I know he could never face me again, he will never stop blaming himself for Prims death. That bomber was designed by him after all.

My breathing picks up as I feel the walls close in more. I hungered for air, fresh air. Even just the company of another soul all I've got in here is my memories and apparently, I don't even have all of them. I get one visitor day day, normally Delly. She helps, tell me stories of Peeta. He's a really sweet guy, devoted.

This is hard for me, staying cooped up in one room for a period of time. I don't know how long they plan on keeping me in here, but I bet it's a while. I hear the door click behind me and I spin around reaching for my bow which isn't there. Couldn't be Delly, she has already come today. What I see before me is Dr. Jones, green syringe in hand, television screen and restraints. My muscles tense immediately.  
"No." I hiss, backing up against the wall as he closes in. Tracker Jacker venom was not a pleasant concoction, as I experienced in the games.  
"It's for your own good Mrs. Mellark," I go to correct him, but realise that my last name isn't Everdeen anymore.  
"It won't help," I say, trying anything to get out of this situation. Two people follow Dr. Jones in, grabbing each of my arms. I pull against them as they pull me towards the bed, shackling me.  
"We don't have to do this the hard was Katniss, just co-operate and it will be over." I knew what they were trying to do, ween the memories of Peeta back into my mind. I didn't want it though, I wasn't in a hurry to do anything. If the memories would come back it would be naturally, not forced and warped from a hi-jacking. I'm completely pinned down now, my thrashing not really making a different in the battle. The doctor comes over, instructing an assistant to press play. The television screen in front of my flickers on, playing footage of Peeta. It's the first interview of the games because him and Caeser are talking about my dress. He looks striking in his tailored suit.

I see an assistant creeping closer, trying to catch me off guard so she can drug me. I snap my head towards her and then to , who is watching me intently.  
"No, Stop!" I scream. Everyone doesn't though, the needle gets closers, Peeta's words get louder,  
"Because.. Beause she came here with me." My heart skips a beat, the needle is about to piece my skin,  
"I remember! Stop! I remember everything!" My words echo through the small room, causing everyone to freeze.


	16. Chapter 16

**Peeta's POV:**

I wake, still curled up in a ball. My eyes feel puffy and my face is sticky from tears. I can feel the effects of sleeping on a cold, hard, unforgiving floor. The house feels so cold, so empty. I find no relief in waking, my nightmares being more appealing than reality. I smash my head hard against the ground, relenting until I am greeted by the darkness.

This time round I wake up in my bed, tucked in tight. My eyes instinctively scan the room, searching for any threats. I find something, but it's not a threat, it's April the receptionist from the hospital.  
"Hi Peeta," she smiles, a little too casual. I don't smile back, I stay motionless, my face not telling of what pain I am feeling inside. "They told me to come and check on you, make sure your okay, eating." She looks at me, expecting a reply. I just stare at her, mesmerised by the big bun of hair on the top of her head. "Then I found you on the floor, looking a mess, you were even bleeding! But I cleaned you up, put you into bed... You weigh a lot, you know that?" she jokes, trying to get a reaction from me. Without success. I realise that im wearing nothing but my underwear, pulling the blanket up to my chin protectively. "Shh, it's okay baby." Baby? Why the hell was she calling me baby. She gets up, making her way towards me. I suddenly feel very violated, my stomach turning slightly. "We've both been through a lot. But it gets easier, with time." She puts the back of her hand against my cheek, stroking along my jaw-line. "It's so hard loosing someone you love," she purrs.

"I havn't lost her," I croak out, pulling away from my hand.  
"But you will," she chirps, giving my face a little tap. I flinch. "I'll be back every morning to check on you Peeta. We wouldn't wont a soul like yourself getting lost, would we darl?" she smiles again, finally leaving the room. I watch the way she walks out the door, up on her toes fingers flared. Her red lips and big hair. The things that reminded me so much of the Capitol. That was undoubtibly where she was from, and who knew what she did there. Maybe she was one of these women who brought victors? Victors like Finnick. Victors who were forced to sell themselves off to the women of the Capitol. They liked having little district pets. But I refuse, I will not become one of her little 'projects'. I would get Katniss back, wouldn't let get the satisfaction of watching me crumble.

With a strong foot, I swing out of bed, heading for the shower. I set out my good clothes, brush my hair and do a once over in the mirror. I would get Katniss to remember me, no matter what it takes. I slip on my shoes and swing open the front door, nearly bowling over Dr. Jones. I'm surprised by his visit but what surprises me is whose behind him.

It's my wife.


	17. Chapter 17

"What?" I stutter out, not knowing what's going on.  
"Peeta!" Katniss squeals, jumping into my arms. I steady us, taken back by her sudden change. Katniss just keeps making these high pitched noises I've never heard her make and Dr. Jones is standing there smiling. My face must have asked the question,  
"She remembers Peeta, all of it." He grins, obviously proud of his work. It cant be, just like that. Katniss pulls back, her grey eyes boring into me, biggest smile on her face. I can't help but smile too, taking her in my arms tightly. I burry my face into her hair, hiding my tears. Yep, after all this time she still smells of the woods. is a little out of place at our reunion and he gets that impression obviously. He gives up a courteous nod and leaves. Katniss turns around to see if he is still with us. After he is out of site she let's go of me, grabbing my hand and pulls us inside. Once we are behind closed doors her hand drops, leaving me reaching out for her again.

She sits at the table, not facing me,  
"You have to understand, I was going insane in there! I needed to get out, I was willing to do anything to do it." She says.  
"Even if it meant lying and pretending you remember me?" I whisper, trying not to break down.  
She turns to look at me but quickly looks away. She cant even look me in the eye.  
"I'm sorry." She whispers.

And right there is the old Katniss, willing to do whatever it took to get what she wanted, not caring who she hurt in the progress.

Selfish.


	18. Chapter 18

I just stand there, dumbfounded, not actually wanting to believe her. I get closer to her, kneeling to her level, searching her eyes for the truth.  
"You have to understand Peeta," she shakes, "they were.. They were going to Hi-jack me! Like the capitol did to you!" Her voice is suddenly pleading, eyes darting from my eyes to the ground. Of course she was ashamed, anyone with a soul would be, but this is different. I can't explain the feeling I was filled with just moments ago. I genuinely believed she had remembered me, that things would be normal again. Of course that was too easy for my life. I feel like screaming terrible terrible things at her. I want her to feel the pain I just did, to suffer. I feel that mundane pang in my brain, the source of the venom. But now, it just fades into nothing. Instead of throwing Katniss across the room, i get up, walking up to our bedroom. Katniss follows me silently. I actually came up here to get away from her, fearing that I would suddenly feel that warning again and do something I'd regret. My body takes me to the wall my painting. Katniss stops too, inching forward when she sees my work.

"Is that?" she whispers.  
"Our daughter." I finish, going back to sit on the bed. Katniss turns around to face me,  
"She's alive? She's real?" she perks.  
"No," I mumble, knowing she never will be either. She turns back to the painting.  
"It's so beautiful Peeta." She says, running her fingers along the edge of the rough canvas. Even the way she moves reminds me of Katniss. 'It's because she is Katniss!' my mind argues. No, this isn't _my_ Katniss.

"Peeta," she whispers, planting herself next to me, "I'm so sorry. If-," she pauses, "if I could go back in time, and if there was someway to stop this from happening, I'd do it." I laugh, looking down at my hands,  
"It's funny you know, how much you've changed. Changed back into _you_. You were like a little kid when you were in the asylum, and just like that, your back to normal. All because you forgot me." If she knew what was good for her, she would get away while she could. Even her own mind was telling her to run.  
"Katniss, take this as an…. Opportunity. Go start new, go- go find Gale. Have the happy life with him that you could never have with me." I tremble.  
"I-I don't know what to say." She whispers.  
"Don't say anything, just leave." I say, trying so hard to be stern, but failing miserably.  
"I can't." She says, looking at my painting once again.  
"And why not?"  
"Because," she whispers, "I know that a bad life with you would be better than a happy one with Gale." How on earth did she think this? I ask, but get no reply. She's just staring at nothing.  
"Katniss," I panic, too scared to touch her, "Katniss!"  
"Because," she says again, "Your, your my Dandelion in the spring."  
"What?" I shake my head, not knowing where this sudden thought has emerged from.  
"I don't know, I just saw a dandelion in your hand. You were holding a dandelion, out to me." She says a little too calmly.

The girl in my painting is actually near a field of dandelions. Could this have sparked it?  
"What were you looking at exactly?" I inquire.  
"The bed of flowers beside her." She answers. I jump up, dragging Katniss with me by the arm. "Peeta!" she squeals, taken by surprise, "stop, what are you doing?" I pause when we get to the bottom of the stairs,  
"Just follow my okay? I want to try something," I breathe. She looks at me, obviously thinking it over before answering,  
"Okay."


	19. Chapter 19

"Peeta! Slow down!" Katniss cries as I drag her by the hand behind me. I didn't want to slow down; I wanted to get there right now. Because if I was right, this would fix everything, she would remember me. I obey her request and slow down to a quick walk, making my way through the town square with her on my trail. She doesn't ask where were going, she just follows. It's a good 10 minute walk, during our trip we get looks from a few people. This was the first time Katniss had been in public for months, people had obviously wondered where she'd been. Maybe they do care after all.

We stop in front of the light blue building. It hasn't changed much since I was last here, apart from a few stray weeds and the vines around the windows had crept up further. I walk up to the door, giving the handle a twist. Damn it, locked. I didn't even bring the keys. We make our way to the back of the house, jumping the wooden fence. The garden wasn't in very good condition, having not had me around to keep it tidy. I lift the rock in the garden, revealing the spare silver key.  
"Got it," I mutter, heading to the wooden door. I insert the key, give it a twist and push on inside.

The place is the same as I left it, excluding the fine layer of dust on everything. A few stray beams of light seep in through the windows, creating a dim light for the open area. I flick the switch to my left and watch as each of my paintings light up, one by one. I hear a gasp escape Katniss and she even holds onto my arm for support.  
"Y-You painted these? She gulped, looking to me, away from the paintings. I nod in confirmation. She stays put next to me, containing the iron grip on my bicep. Small whimpers escape her lips occasionally. I watch her eyes dart from piece to piece, not knowing where to look first. I give her time though and the longer we stay, the more comfortable she gets. Eventually she lets go of me and slowly paces forward, hands by her side, out-stretched ever so slightly. It's like she's scared that these paintings will come to life and attack her at any given moment.

My eyes follow her as she continues tentatively, moving from painting to painting. It's one particular painting that stops her in her tracks though. It's a painting I did a while ago, conjured out of my imagination. It's a scene of us, our bodies entwined, the ocean lapping at our feet, our blue and purple jumpsuits tattered. It's what I imagined we would have looked like that night in the second games, the night I gave her the pearl and the locket.

Her face twitches and contorts as she tries to take in this image. Her breathing becomes ragged and heavy, I even walk over to her in fear of her losing consciousness.  
"Are you okay?" I whisper, taking her hand, letting our fingers find the gaps to fill. She continues to stare at my artwork, for an uncomfortably long time, before answering.  
"I-I think I need some time alone." She stutters, letting go. I acknowledge her request, stepping back from her. I creep back over to my original position near the back door.  
"Alone." She repeats, her voice shaky yet stern.

I stay for a few more seconds, just in case she changes her mind. She clears her throat.  
"Sorry," I mummer, before slinking away into my over grown garden.


	20. Chapter 20

I sit, elbows on knees, with my hands cradling my jaw. It had only been 5 minutes since I'd left Katniss alone with my drawings, but it feels like a lifetime. I get an itch as I scan my garden, not satisfied with it's appearance. The over grown hedges, the weeds invading the withered flowers. I spot some clippers leaning up against the fence and make my way over to them, needed to clean up this joint.

I shape the hedges back to their normal square, throwing the trimmings into a pile out of the way. I then get down to the garden beds, reefing the weeds from the dirt, trying not to crush the delicate blossoms. I try my hardest not to get dirty, but it's pretty much impossible whilst sitting in dirt. I get back up after I'm done, dusting the fertiliser off my slacks. Standing back to admire my work I nod in satisfaction, being happy with my grooming. I put the trimmers back before turning back to my gallery.

Katniss stands silently at the back door, giving me a start. Her face is hidden behind her veil of brown hair, she just stares down at her feet.  
"Katniss?" I call, walking over to her slowly. Her head whips upwards to lock onto me, those eyes burning into my soul. "Are, you okay?" I stutter.  
"Can we please go home?" She shakes, eyes filled with tears. I can tell she's trying so hard not to cry. I close the distance between us, extending my arms and inviting an embrace. She accepts, resting her head on my chest, wrapping her arms loosely around my lower back. My palm finds the back of Katniss's head. I smooth down her locks of brown, soothing nothings until her weeping ceases.

"Come on," I mummur, pulling away to look at her, our eyes locking. The sun was setting, giving the world a golden film. Katniss's brown hair shines auburn, her grey eyes bright, shining from the tears. Hey eyes flutter to the ground, breaking our gaze. I lean down and place a soft kiss on her forehead. We then leave my haven, hand in hand.


	21. Chapter 21

By the time we get home it's dark. Katniss's grip tightens as we enter our dark home.  
"It's okay, home is safe." I explain, flicking on the lights to my left. The living room brightens and I can feel Katniss relax considerably. I walk around the rest of our home, making every room visible.  
"Funny," Katniss hums, "I always thought I lived here alone. You seem to know where everything is."  
"That's because I live here too, Katniss." I reply stoutly. She nods,  
"I know, I know."

My stomach asks for food and I listen, rummaging through the fridge.  
"You hungry? I can whip us up something?" I enquire, migrating to the freezer.  
"Please," she replies, pulling up a stool in the kitchen. I decide to prove our forgotten relationship more, preparing to make Katniss's favourite. Cheese buns.

I get some frozen buns I cooked not too long ago, setting them in the now warm oven. Slices of cheese, herbs, butter, all the ingredients I need are accounted for. Not too long later I finish, dishing 4 out on a plate.  
"For you," I say, sliding a plate of 2 over towards Katniss. She eyes them suspiciously,  
"My favourite," she affirms, bringing one up to her mouth, taking a gracious bite. "These are amazing," she exclaims, her words muffled by a mouth-full of cheesy goodness. I smile, filled with a sense of accomplishment. I also dig into my scrolls, the bread filling my stomach quickly. After picking the crumbs from her plate, Katniss pats her stomach,  
"Thank-you," she praises, taking her plate and my own.

I cant help but grin. It's just like old times, I'd cook, she'd eat and clean. She seemed a lot more relaxed with my presence, which is good. Maybe those paintings did work?  
"Katniss? Did they help, the drawings?" She freezes, dropping the clean plates onto the bench. They make an awful noise, startling me. They don't break though, luckily.  
"I-I don't know." She chokes, leaving me alone in the kitchen.

I follow her into the lounge room. She plants herself onto the couch, sitting idly.  
"Want to talk about it?" I whisper.  
"I'm tired." She replies voice hollow once more. She sprawls out along the couch, nestling herself into the cushions.  
"You can sleep in the bed upstairs, I'll stay down here." A disapproving noise comes from the back of her throat, her eyelids fluttering. She was tired, and I understood. All the confusing, conflicting memories. It tends to tire you out. I grab a blanket from the linen closet, spreading it out and placing it over a content Katniss.

I pull up the covers to her chin, leaving her with a goodnight kiss. I then leave for my own bed. I undress before jumping under the linen, shifting around until I can find a comfortable spot. I'm not even tired, it's still fairly early. I don't get up though. I just lay there on my back, left with my thoughts. But eventually I fall asleep. Before I do though, I come to one conclusion. I would wait, I would help Katniss, because I know from experience, that things like this, take time to mend. The invisible scars left upon ones soul leave a person feeling empty and confused. Your mind tells you one thing whilst your gut tells you another. Katniss waited for me, she gave me space. And I will do the same for her.


	22. Chapter 22

"_Peeta,"_ her voice echoes throughout the white room. _"Peeta,"_ Katniss calls again, her voice timid. I look for her in this blurred vision, but she's nowhere to be found. Then I see her, turned away, back facing me. _"Peeta." _I walk over, taking hours to close the few metres between us. I place a hand on her shoulder, creating ripples throughout her body. _"Peeta."_ I tug at her clothes, wanting to see what she needed, what I could provide. A more forced tug turns her silhouette around, but I'm not greeted by the seam eyes I love. Her face is blank, emotionless, empty.

"Peeta!" My eyes fly open and I try to adjust to the lack of light the night brings. Katniss stands above me, shaking my shoulder gently, rousing me from my slumber. Relief flushes over me, finding that this Katniss has a face.  
"Are you okay?" I croak, shifting up against the head of the bed.  
"I had that dream again." She whimpers, her hands fumbling around my neck. I scoot over letting her into our bed, coaxing her under the covers with me. She rests her cheek on my bare torso, stoking the lines of my rib cage. The old Katniss would have been completely uncomfortable with any contact like this. She's changing considerably already.

I had that dream regularly also, the dream of our last hope, our unborn baby. I can feel the tears collecting in my eyes, hoping she'd drop the subject. I didn't want to cry.  
"Did we know what it was? A girl or a boy?" she whispers. She seems reasonably calm. I guess she doesn't remember.  
"Girl," I sniff, "a beautiful baby girl." She falls silent once more, holding me tightly. Maybe we could get through this if our child had been born at the right time. I had a feeling that one look at our daughter and everything would be fine, Katniss could trust the words I said, she could remember. I know that if we did have a child, she would love it unconditionally. After the miscarriage, Katniss never wanted to try again. And I didn't judge her for that. She blamed herself for our child's death, thinking of it as a sign, that she was unfit to become a mother. Maybe now that those thought were gone from her mind, we could try again.

I don't even realise that I'm sobbing. Katniss hands trail up my chest, sending shivers to my very core. She keeps searching until her fingers find my lips. Then her lips are on mine. At first the kiss is slow, timid, experimental. Then is becomes heavy and I can tell she is yearning for more. Our mouths continue to fight, our hands explore each other's territory. I pull away,  
"A-Are you sure?" I pant. Sure I would love nothing more than this, but it would mean something different to Katniss.  
"Please," she whines, "I need this."

It's just like is used to be, frantic at first, butterflies in the pit of my stomach. But then it's magic, our bodies moving as one, working together to reach that pure feeling of ecstasy.  
When it's over she snuggles into my chest, her breathing slowing until I can hear nothing but quiet little snores. It's the first night in a while where I don't have nightmares of searching for Katniss, because I've found her, she's here.  
Safe in my arms.


	23. Chapter 23

When I wake, my mind races over the events of last night. It was just like before, when everything was perfect. Some one couldn't conjure up a loving touch like that without feelings something too. She had to remember me, she had to feel something. Then I realise that the spot beside me is cold and empty. I sit up, rubbing away at the dirt in my eyes.  
"Katniss?" I croak, swinging my legs over the bed. I look around, searching for my lover. She's not anywhere in our room. I throw on some old clothes and make my way downstairs, popping my head into rooms on my way. I find her down stairs though, hair a tangled mess, eyes red and raw. It looks like she didn't get any sleep at all. She sits like she did last night, stiff on the couch. The fire that she lit crackles, it's flames dancing in the small brick place. She doesn't take any notice of me when I enter, continuing to glare into the fiery embers.  
"Katniss?" I ask, approaching cautiously. When she doesn't reply, I plant myself next to her on the soft seat. "Are you okay?" My voice shakes slightly, terrified at the fact that a person can go from one extreme to the other in their emotions.

I decide to call this, 'the old Katniss'.  
"Katniss, please, talk to me. Are you okay?" I plead again, placing a hand on her shoulder. She flinches at my touch, but doesn't pull away, just continues to look into the flames. I bite down on my lip, scared that my decision last night was a bad one. But she did agree to it too, it's what she wanted. At the time that is. I know it's hard for her, I know what it's like, but it's just frustrating me. She seems to be getting worse each time she remembers something. Maybe that's what it is, our encounter last night brought back memories of previous times. I'm starting to think that my initial thoughts were correct, that she really can't know who I am, that the memories are too painful for her to handle. She has to forget me, I cant keep doing this to her, bringing up the past her mind made her forget. It's going to ruin her in the end.  
I realise in that moment I have to let her go. If I really loved her, I'd want her to be happy. And I know who can bring her that eternal happiness. The person that her heart still beats for. The person that can make all the bad things go away. The person who can answer all her questions. The person that she needs to survive.

Gale.


	24. Chapter 24

The tone goes on and on, I fear that it may ring out.

"Hello?" I hear a familiar voice greet.  
"Gale, It's Peeta." I say, trying to sound as up-beat as possible.  
"What happened to Katniss? What's wrong?" My efforts at hiding my tone obviously don't fool him. I suppose it's not that hard to figure out. Why else would I call Gale up? For a friendly chat? I don't think so. Doesn't he know about what happened? Didn't someone ring and let him know?  
"She. I." I try to explain the situation, but all that escapes my mouth is short stutters, then deep gasps for air, then sobs. Embarrassed, I clamp my mouth with my free hand, muffling my cries. I try to stop, I don't want to look weak to Gale, but it just gets worse. All my conflicting emotions are starting to get the better of me.  
"I'll be over soon, I'll catch the first train that leaves for 12." He says before hanging up abruptly.

I keep the phone held up to my ear, the dial tone beeping loudly. I have to gather myself, I can't go see Katniss like this. It may be the last time I see her. Actually, it _will _be the last time I see her. I have to let her go, for her sake. She can't be with me, I know this, but I just don't want to accept it. After all we've done, after all we've been through, I wished we could have at least been together in the end. It just seems like a waste, all the people who have given their lives for us Star-Crossed lovers, for us to have our happily ever after. A couple of minutes pass and my sobs decrease. I wipe away my sticky tears before entering the lounge room again, prepared to say my goodbyes.

She hasn't moved an inch since I left her. Maybe she can't even hear me? I start to shake, my bottom lips trembles, tears threaten to spill from my eyes. With the clear of my throat, I gather myself, sitting down beside Katniss. Again, she doesn't react to my presence. I just stare into the fire aswell.  
"Katniss?" I weep. Of course there is no reply, "Gales coming." My tone resembles that of a 10 years olds, trying to sound happy. At least the mention of Gales name got her attention.  
"Gale." She whispers, as if she is remembering, trying to dig up some old forgotten memory.  
"Yeah, Gale. Your friend." I say, turning to her. "He loves you Katniss, you know that?" She nods. "And he's taking you home with him, your going to be happy in district 2, with him." The last sentence, actually saying it out loud, causes my silent tears to fall. It didn't sound real until it came out of my mouth. I would never see this girl again. This would be the last time I would see my wife. Maybe even her and Gale could get married one day? Start the family we could never have.  
"Why?" she asks, her voice monotone.  
"Because you cant stay here with me, Katniss. We can't be together anymore." My voice is pleading, wanting her to object to this suggestion.  
"Okay."

I can literally feel my heart tear in two, it pumping harder than normal, trying to make up for it's missing piece. The pain is so severe and debilitating I fear that I might even faint. I find myself doubled over on the floor, the pressure in my chest increasing. I think im over reacting a bit, I knew it was coming, why couldn't I deal with this? I look up, seeing Katniss sitting there, staring at me. Her eyes are wide, terrified. I'm know im not turning, I cant feel the venom nor the pang in my brain. But I then notice the numbness in my left arm, the feeling of a million needles pricking my skin. I recognize these symptoms, it happened to my father once.

I'm having a heart attack.


	25. Chapter 25

The last thing I remember is Katniss's teary eyes, her trembling hands reaching out to me. After that it's just darkness.

The itchy blanket tickles my skin as I prop myself up on my elbows. There is a slight ache from where my heart is but apart from that I feel fine. There is no one beside me in this white room, just the four walls that make it. I look at the table beside my bed, spotting a vase of blooming flowers as well as a velvet pouch. It looks familiar. I reach over to grab it, trying not to rip the drip from my fore arm. Undoing the golden ribbon, I peer inside. I only need to see it for a second before it rolls to the floor, clicking along the tiles. The pearl I gave Katniss in the Quarter Quell, the time I was adamant that I would never see Katniss again. I guess I was wrong that time, but I know now that she's actually gone.

My heart pains even more, maybe it did rip in half. It sure felt like it. The discomfort in my chest causes me to cry out and a nurse ushers into the room.  
"Your awake Mr Mellark!" she exclaims, giving me a once over, checking this, checking that. She says I'm fine, that it was a heart attack but I fought through and won. I wish I hadn't of won though, I wish I was dead. At least then being away from _her_ would be painless. She leaves a meal beside my flowers before exiting. But before she goes, she hands me an envelope, telling me it came with the flowers and was asked to be delivered when I woke. I accept it and she leaves. I don't open the letter. I know who its from, I recognise her handwriting on the front of the paper 'Peeta.' I know I'll ever really have the strength to open it.

Im about to cry again when Delly materialises,  
"Peeta," she sighs, walking over to me, "scoot over." I shift over uncomfortably, making some room. We lay there, her arms holding me in a tight embrace, my head resting on her chest. I'm pretty sure I'm crying again, she keeps telling me it's going to be okay. But I cant imagine my life ever being 'okay' without _her_. Even just the mention of her name makes me quiver. The soft stroking motions of Dellys fingers in my hair calms me down considerably, enough for me to even talk.

"A-Are they, gone?" I utter.  
"Yes Peeta, they left straight for 2 after the Doctor said you would be fine." Her voice is comforting, like a mothers.  
"I'm never going to see her again," I cry out. I can feel that huge lump in my throat forming again.  
"I know Peeta, but it's going to be okay, I'm here. I've _always_ been here."

I start to whimper again, nuzzling into Delly more. I guess I did take Delly for granted. I didn't even make an effort to talk to her since the rebellion. Katniss never did trust us, seeing as how close we were, being child hood friends and all. Every girl gets jealous. We stay like this for hours, with me drifting in and out of consciousness, she placing light kisses on the top of my head when I cry out.

"I've missed you, Delly," I say finally.  
"I've missed you too, Peeta."


	26. Chapter 26

A few days later I'm released from the hospital, with strict orders to not strain my heart. Delly didn't leave my side the whole time, eating hospital meals, sleeping with me on my bed. When we leave, we both head for my house. I guess we've been technically living together for the past couple of days, and truthfully, I don't want to be left alone, in fear of what I might do to myself. I think she knows that too.

The house is the same as I left it, except all the pictures of _her_ have been taken down. I try to ignore their disappearance, thinking they have been removed for a reason. I walk into the lounge room, Delly shadowing me. That was the spot I had the heart attack, and this is where she sat and watched me nearly die. I think harder,  
_"Peeta! No!"_

Her voice is muffled as I remember. She didn't watch me nearly die, she tried to help, I remember. Her hands grab at my face, slapping my cheeks. Then I'm on some kind of bed on wheels. Gale has her by the arms, pulling my last hope away. She's reaching for me though, crying out for me.

"Are you okay?" Delly asks, rousing me from my thoughts. I nod numbly, staring into the old ashes of the fire place. Looks like I've collapsed because I'm on the floor. Delly crouches down beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders,  
"It's going to be alright Peeta, I promise." She hushes. And she was right, things were alright.

Weeks pass and Delly doesn't leave. I still don't have the strength to even speak _her _name, but Delly says it on a rare occasion, causing my heart to ache once more. The letter remains un opened and hidden, the pearl still stashed away under our mattress. I guess I can move on, with Delly by my side things seem manageable.

Weeks turn to months, friendly hugs turn into passionate kisses and before we know it were a couple. I sometimes get dirty looks on the street when I hold her hand. I can hear their thoughts now,  
_"That's not who I rebelled for, that's not Katniss."  
_I suppose word spreads fast though because we just tend to blend in now. It doesn't hurt as much to think about my former lover. Haymitch sometimes tells stories and I don't even feel like burying myself into a hole. Delly says it's an improvement. I even find myself thinking about her more often, without the pain in my heart that used to come with it. In fact, one night when Delly was out late at work, I had enough strength to open that letter that was left on the hospital table 6 months ago.

_Peeta,_

_Im sorry is really the most important thing I have to say. I'm sorry that we didn't end up together in the end. Im sorry I forgot you. But Gale says it's best for both of us, he says I need it. I know you will be in good hands, Delly is a lovely person and you might not believe me now, but she loves you dearly, she always has. I don't even know what else to write, you've always been one with words apparently, not me. But I think the most appropriate thing to say would be,  
Goodbye._

_Katniss_

"Goodbye," I whisper before jumping under the covers of our bed and crying myself to sleep.


	27. Chapter 27

Surprisingly, I sleep like a baby that night. I don't even wake when Delly gets home. No nightmares, no dreams. I just sleep. Maybe that's what I needed after all, I just needed to say goodbye, to cry it all out. I breathe inwards, taking in a waft of bacon coming from down stairs. I pull on some pants and stumble out towards the kitchen. Delly has prepared a hearty breakfast, having just put it down on the table.  
"Good morning," she smiles, kissing me on the fore head and sitting me down. She's never done this before? I'm the one who cooks breakfast. What could have brought this on? I decide to ignore it and just see it as a lovely surprise,  
"What's this, Delly cooking? I must be still asleep!" I laugh, examining my meal.  
"Oh quit it you!" She giggles, giving me a friendly slap on the back. But the hit is a little too hard, there's a bite to it. I wince and laugh it off, digging into my meal.  
"So how'd you sleep last night? You were out like a light when I got home." She asks, also sitting down, digging in to her own meal. I remember finishing the letter and falling asleep, tears sticky on my cheeks. I suddenly recall not putting away the letter. Shoot, did she see it? She must have, maybe that's why she was being so nice? She's scared that I'm missing Katniss.

"Yeah, I slept well thanks. How was work last night anyway?" I say through a mouthful of food. She goes on telling me about that woman at work that goes around making her life hell and before I know it, I've finished my breakfast and she's still babbling on. I look to the clock, Delly's voice still ringing in the background. Ten o'clock.

"Hey Delly? Don't you have a shift this morning?" I but in, remembering her whining from yesterday aswell. Her whinging stops and I hear her curse. She races up stairs and I'm left with a messy kitchen, which I don't mind. I clean the dishes and wipe down the benches. I'm just about to start sweeping when Delly runs in, kisses me and runs out once more. I smile to myself, thinking about how the roles are normally reversed with everyday couples.

I decide that today I would paint. I don't even know what ill create, probably just the first thing that comes to mind. Turns out the first thing that comes to mind is Katniss. I'm about half way through the painting when I realise that this random woman is actually her. The brown hair, grey eyes, olive skin. I don't even know what to think of it. Should I continue? Should I stop? I decide to keep painting, to put this in my gallery. I should probably go and check on that today too. I'd left it under Haymitch's management after he'd kept complaining that he had nothing to do these days.

I finish the details of her face. The occasional blemish, the slight bags under her eyes, the way her lips pout ever so slightly. It's funny how I can remember every insignificant detail of her body, down to the very last freckle. I'm ripped from my trance when there's a knock at the door. It makes me jump a bit, but it's probably Delly, forgotten her stuff again. But when I open the door I realise it's not Delly, it's the woman from my painting.

"Hello Peeta," Katniss says, smile as warm and forgiving as ever.


	28. Chapter 28

'This isn't real, you're seeing things.' I tell myself as Katniss sits idly at the dining room table. She has one hand clasping her cup of tea, the other rubbing her large stomach. So she really was starting a family with Gale, she really had moved on. And I guess she was just here to rub it in even more. After the initial shock of my ex-wife actually being at my doorstep, I invited her in for tea. We sit across from each other, just like when she used to live here, when she was still mine. I couldn't even imagine what Delly's reaction would be if she were home today. Probably joy, the sight of Katniss being pregnant is a definite for us never having a chance together again.

"I was actually here visiting Haymitch," she chirps, taking sips at her drink, "he said I should probably pop in and say hello. I agreed." At least she's happy. Isn't that what you wanted after all? For her to be happy?

"Well thank you for the visit, it was not expected. I didn't even know you were in the district." I reply.  
"Oh yes, I visit Haymitch on a regular basis. He did save both our lives. Multiple times." It's not right, too formal, too forced. She didn't have to come see me, I could tell she wasn't comfortable here.  
"So, you and Gale seem to be going just fine," I muse, gesturing towards her enlarged belly.  
"Well," she pauses, "that's the main reason im really here."

"Why? So you can rub it in my face?" I snap, a little too viciously.

"No Peeta, no." she shakes her head, "I'm… I'm not really sure about it."  
"Having second thoughts? Arnt ready for it? He wanted it didn't he, he forced you into it?" I argue. Gale always was pushy and they both weren't getting any younger, may as well get right into it.

"The Doctor says im about 6 months," she hushes, looking down at her bump.  
"Well that great," I reply sarcastically, "The worst has past."  
"Yes," she agrees, "But me and Gale… We didn't…"  
"What?" I probe.

"The first time, we did, was only a few months ago."  
"And?" I retort, not really getting what she's trying to say.  
"The baby Peeta. I think It's yours."


	29. Chapter 29

I sit against the front door, blocking myself from the outside world. I had finally settled into a new life with Delly, when Katniss comes along and has to ruin it. My arms are wrapped around my legs, my head buried in my chest. She could have lied, she could have told Gale it was his. But what would she say about the baby's blue eyes or blonde hair? She didn't have a choice. She gathered the courage to tell me, and I threw it back in her face. I regret kicking her out, I regret screaming those terrible things at her. But the sight of her tears just made me want to comfort her even more, but I couldn't, I couldn't do that. She needs to be with Gale, it had to be done.

The phone rings loudly and I decide to let it ring out. Who ever it was, they don't ring again. I stay in this foetal position for a good half hour, just running life over in my head. What I could do, what I _should _do. I know I shouldn't have thrown her out. I should have talked this through with her, conversed over our options. But I know the only option is us. For us to be together again. And what about Delly? And Gale? Then, there's banging at the door im leaning against. I ignore it, just like the phone.

"Peeta!" I hear a male call, "Katniss!"  
"Haymitch?" I croak,  
"Peeta, open this door now." He replies, stern and unforgiving. What's the bet she went back crying to him, and now he's here to give me a lecture.

"I will bang on this door all day if I have too, and if Delly comes home while im still here, something might slip out."

I scuttle away from the frame and pry myself away from my protective position, standing up and opening the door.  
"What?" I mumble grudgingly.  
"Nice to see you too, Peeta." He chuckles before pushing inside. "Close the door." I obey. He takes me into the lounge room where I'm sat down in a chair. Just had to be Katniss's old chair, didn't it?  
"What did you say to her? What did she tell you?" he interrogates, pacing back and forth infront of me.

"She told me about the baby," I sigh,  
"Mmmm?"

"And that it's mine,"

"Okay, so she did tell you. She told me she wasn't going to, then when she came back in hysterics, I thought that maybe you had flipped out. You gave her a scare Peeta, she couldn't stop crying. She couldn't even talk." He whines. I don't say anything to this. I didn't even take that into consideration. What would have happened if I did lose it to the venom? Maybe I did and didn't realise? Maybe I did inflict pain upon her?  
"Is she okay?" I ask, my voice shaking.  
"Yeah, she's fine. Just a little shocked. I think she may have thought you'd be happy about the news. I don't even know if she's aware of you and Delly."

"Everything would be fine if there was no Delly." I curse. She waited for me though, through all the games, through the rebellion. She had told me she's always been madly in love with me. I guess looking back on it, it was hard to miss. It wasn't fair for me to ditch her again. Who knows what she would do if I ran off with Katniss. And Gale, well, he'd probably hunt me down with a vengeance.

"It's too late," I continue, "Maybe if she had told me a few months ago, but not now, Delly had no one."

I see Haymitch bite his lip, obviously holding in some whity remark.  
"Well say it!," I snap, "what is it? Say it!"

He shakes his head, "I don't even know if Delly would mind. Or Gale for the matter."

"What do you mean?" I object, standing now. I can see Haymitch arguing with himself in his head. Im sure if he was still a raging alcoholic I'd be able to get it out of him, but now that he was a sober man, he was tough to crack.  
"When," she starts finally, "When the first games were on, Delly did move on to someone else, she thought you were dead for sure. Everyone did. Her and this boy were quite close actually, everyone was sure they would even marry."  
"Who?" I exclaim, suddenly feeling a pang of jealousy.  
"It was Gale Peeta, Gale."


	30. Chapter 30

"Gale?" I exclaim, "but Gale loves Katniss, has always loved Katniss!"

"Well, obviously not always," Haymitch sighs.

"But that was the main reason I let him have her, because I thought he had un-devoted love for her. Turns out I have more."  
"No, you let her go because if she stayed here with you, she'd go mad again. You did the right thing Peeta." How did Haymitch know the reason I let her go? I hadn't talked to him in a while.  
"How do you know that's the reason?" I ask.  
"Just because the two of you stopped talking, doesn't mean I have too as well. We chat on a regular basis. She babbles, I listen." He says. Take alcohol out of the equation and it turns out Haymitch is a good man.  
"What did she say? Did she want to leave?" I probe.  
"Peeta, I cant tell you that." He states, averting his gaze.  
"Did she want to leave?" I ask, sternly. No answer. "Did she want to be with Gale!" My ears ring from my yelling and Haymitch even flinches.  
He clears his throat, "Personally, I think it would have been better for her to remember. Any life with you would be better for her than a stable one with Gale." What did he even mean by that?  
"Answer my question Haymitch." I breathe.  
"No. She didn't want to leave. You were hurting, from your heart attack. We had to actually pry her from your body. She was in hysterics. Maybe it brought back another memory, I thought. I suggested that maybe she should stay another night, so she knows your okay. But Gale insisted they leave straight away." He doesn't look me in the eye, just stares behind me.

"He made her leave, because he knew she was loving me again?" I ask timidly.  
"Yes," he confirms, looking at me now.  
"Does she still? Does she love me now?" My heart is pounding.  
"Yes," I hear her answer. I spin around and see her there, hands caressing the baby in her stomach. Our baby.

I feel light headed. This isn't happening. I put any idea of Katniss coming back, out of my mind for good. That wasn't my baby, it was Gales. She wasn't here, I was just seeing things. But I knew this woman before me was no figure of my imagination. The way her eyes glistened with tears. The way her hair flowed, longer, down to her rib cage now. The way her hands ran softly over her bump. She loved it already. And so did I. She walks up to me, smile warm on her face. I hold her tightly, breathing in her scent. Still the same, still smelled like Katniss. We stay like this for a while, only this time, there is no Capitol attendant to break us apart, letting us know our warm drinks are ready. This time it's Delly.

"Honey, I got off early, I was- Oh, hello Katniss."


	31. Chapter 31

I guess she kind of put two and two together. Us both crying in each others arms, the way I held her close to me. She would have to have found out one way or another. I have to be with Katniss now, she needs me, I don't even care if she goes insane again. And nor did she. I had a feeling that we would be just fine.

Delly's harsh words hung in the air long after she left, making my feel guilty and about this sudden situation. But I let it go. I have to. Haymitch must have left when Katniss appeared because he is no longer around.

We sit on the couch, her on my lap, my chin hanging on her shoulder.  
"I'm sorry," she whispers to me.  
"Don't be, it was always supposed to end like this." I admit.  
"Like with us having a baby?" Her voice is music to my ears. Too long have I tried to force her out of my mind, trying to protect her from myself.  
"Exactly," I assured her, planting a plump kiss on the crook of her neck. The little giggle that escaped her mouth filled me with so much joy. The fact that I brought that little bit of happiness to her confirmed to me that we could do this. We could have the family I always wanted, the life I yearned for.

Again the days turn into weeks, weeks materialised to months. Time had a way of slipping through my fingers. Katniss was growing bigger by the day, her feet swelling to the point that she became immobile. It was scary, how venerable this baby made her, how weak she was. But she was happy, and so was I. Delly never returned, as for Gale. I guess they did run off together, this was the way it really was supposed to be.

Instead of Katniss going crazy because of being with me, she was becoming stronger. I'd watch her have her 'alone time' with our unborn baby. She'd sing those old, familiar songs, blowing little kisses to her stomach. Each time it would bring a tear to my eye and I knew that it was the most beautiful thing I would ever see. We'd play around with names, guess if it would be a girl or a boy. We both agreed we would love it no matter what gender, but I secretly desired that little girl in my painting, the one with the seam eyes. I believed that in this point of my life, I could never be happier. I had a bounce in my step, a twinkle in my eye. Katniss says that she's scared; she said the fact that a little person is inside of her is very daunting.  
"What if I can't do it? What if I don't make it right?" she cries, the hormones becoming too much. I laugh at her adoringly, taking her hands in mine.  
"I promise you, there will be no better mother than yourself. I promise, you'll be great." The way she smiled at me confirmed that she believed me. Because I kept my promises.

"I'll love you 'till the end of time," I whisper, one night.  
"Promise?" she squeaks.  
"I promise."


	32. Chapter 32

I did a lot of painting late in the pregnancy. Katniss couldn't really do much, she could barely walk, so she'd just lay around and I'd paint her. She would have a smile on her face in all of the paintings, a tear in her eye, warmth in her heart. She could be due any day now so we don't go out, we stay home and wait. I walk upstairs after lunch, needing to collect my paints from our room. There's Katniss, fast asleep on our bed. I smile adoringly, tip toeing towards the cupboard. I get my gear and quietly head down stairs again, leaving Katniss and her little snores behind.

It's late afternoon and the sunset is ravishing, a tinge of pink laying across the sky. I couldn't miss this sight. I place the easel on the back veranda and study the colours that lay over the roof tops. Purples, oranges, pinks, reds. It is by far the most gorgeous sunset I had ever come across. I mix the colours on my palette, and put the brush to the canvas. I outline the dark trees, splotch on some colours. This could be the one, the painting where I finally master a sunset. Maybe its my state of mind at this time, with Katniss. Slowly but surely I get there. The sunset is long gone but still vivid in my mind. With the last bits of day light, I finish my painting.  
"Perfect." I admire, standing back to check out my work. Life really was perfect. But then I hear her cry out.

I spin around, my legs taking me upstairs as fast as I could. Her cries were coming from our bedroom, where I left her to lay. All I could think of was what happened that last time, the last time she was pregnant, the last time her cries came from upstairs. When our last baby didn't make it. I can see it now, her blood, our child. I was scared, I didn't want to have to see that again. Her calls to me stop when I get to the bedroom. She's not here. The bathroom door was shut again. Again. I pause, hand on the door knob. I twist it slowly, not locked.  
"Peeta!" she calls. I push the door open, feeling sick, scared. But there is no blood on the floor, no unborn baby in her hands. Just a pool of water. My heart stops. It was time.

"Ready to be a Father?" she smiles, holding her stomach, smiling from ear to ear.


	33. Chapter 33

But that smile doesn't stay for long. It's replaced with a grimace, along with a quiet groan caused by a contraction.  
"Come on, come sit down." I say calmly. We had talked about this moment before, what we would do when the baby arrived. I'd suggested to just have it delivered at home, a familiar place. She agreed. I walk her over to the bed, sitting her on the edge. I watch as her hands grip at the sheets tightly, her eyes slightly widening as her body lets out a shake.  
"Are you okay?" I gulp, probing on how she is feeling at this moment. Her eyes start to dart across the room as she holds into her stomach, her breathing ragged and irregular. She sure didn't look okay. Terrified, that's the word. She looked absolutely terrified.  
"N-No," she stutters, "Not ready, I'm not ready." She shakes her head quickly, crying out again. "I cant!" she continues.  
"Come on, shh, shhh." I hush, trying to hold her trembling hands still. She was panicking and if she didn't calm down soon, she'd go into shock, and that wouldn't help. At all. And that's when the screams arrive, her obviously feeling her first real contraction.  
"Look at me," I order when it's finally over, "you can do this. I'm going to be here next to you the whole way, okay? You're going to do great." Her hands still tremble as I hold them in mine and I can tell she doesn't fully believe that my words are true. But she needs to have trust in me, she needs to believe that she can because I know that she's been ready for a while now.  
"Now, I'm going downstairs to call the Midwife okay?" She nods her head furiously, letting her hands slip from mine. I bound down the stairs, getting to the phone in only a few seconds. I dial the number.  
"It's Peeta Mellark," I declare once I hear an answer, "the baby's coming, Katniss's water just broke."  
"We'll be right over Peeta," says the woman. I hang up the phone and race upstairs again, finding Katniss right where I left her. I walk over to the bed and look down at Katniss, her wide, watering eyes staring right up at me.

"Your crying! Are you in pain, is everything okay?" I panic, bending down to survey her condition.

"Peeta, I'm fine!" she grins again, swatting me away.  
"Then why are you crying?" I ask, brushing a strand of hair from her face.  
"Because I'm happy." And why wouldn't she be. Her voice is still shaky and im not fully convinced but I decide that her approach is better than mine. Stay calm and be happy, because were about to receive a gracious gift, one that is long over due.

"Well," I smile, "I guess all we can do is wait." I sit beside her on the bed, wrapping my arm around her shoulders.

"I guess we don't really have a choice," Katniss sighs before flashing me a smile. But that smile quickly turns into wincing as she takes in the waves of oncoming pain. I let her squeeze my hand, I wipe the sweat from her face, I kiss away the pain, I caress her cheeks. I be here for her, it's the best I can do.

"I've been thinking of names," she pants, holding her sides, obviously trying to take her mind off the discomfort.  
"Yeah?" I say sweetly, brushing a strand of hair away that was sticking to her fore head.  
"For a boy," I see her eyes dart away. I ready for the name Gale. I was defiantly not naming my son Gale. "I like Ryelee." My heart sinks a little. Ryelee is my brothers name. _Was _my brothers name. I shouldn't admit it but he was my favourite of the two, he would stand up for me if I was ever getting picked on. Always listened too, even if he didn't have any advice to give. He provided the non-stop stirring about my love for Katniss, told me things I could do for her to like me back. Of course I never did, and so he would call me a cat, tell me to grow a pair. Brotherly love. I missed that, I missed him, I missed my family, however dysfunctional we were. I nod numbly, consumed by my thoughts,  
"I'm sorry! It was a stupid idea," she scowled.  
"No," I stammered, "I think that's a great idea." I put on my most winning smile before she says,  
"And for a girl," she looks up at me, eyes sweet and full, "Prue."  
Now that was beautiful. And I didn't even have to ask where it had come from. Prim and Rue, the two girls that Katniss had loved most. The two girls that now rested in peace.  
"That's perfect." I whisper as I watch her fight back tears. I plant a kiss on her cracked lips, being gentle as I do so. She winces and it is obvious that the contractions have returned again. She falls back into the bed, writhing in pain, screaming out,  
"Peeta!" She whines, throwing her head against the mattress.  
"There on their way. It's going to be okay," I soothe as I lay down beside her, brushing the hair from her face.

"Get it out…" she growls through clamped teeth.

"I know," I croak, eyes stinging with tears. If I could take all this pain away from her I would, I just couldn't stand seeing her like this. "their coming."

But she continues to cry out, "Katniss," I say , "Katniss, look at me!" I hold her face, forcing her gaze upon me. "you need to stay calm okay? Everything is going to be fine, you're ready for this. Just hold onto me when the pain comes okay? I'm here." I continue, holding her clenched fist with both of mine.

She stares up at me with unforgiving eyes,  
"You did this to me!" She screams, "This is what you wanted so bad? Are you happy now! Huh!" Her hand grips mine, squeezing it to the point that I fear it may break.  
"I'm sorry!" I croak, my voice breaking alittle, as well as my heart. Im taken back by her words, so vicious, so like the old her. Its just the pain, the pain is making her say these things, don't let it get to you. But I did feel guilty, it was my fault. I couldn't say I'd take this back, in a few hours she will be happy, holding our child in her arms, apologising for any foul words. She didn't mean it. She screams out again,  
"Make it stop!" she begs, clenching her hands on her stomach. Tears pour down her face and I try to wipe them away, "Bug off!" she groans, swatting me away. Where the hell was the Midwife? And that's when I hear a loud rapping at what I presume is the front door.  
"I'll be back okay? Hang in there, I love you." I breathe, prying my hands from her iron grip. I run downstairs, ignoring her harsh words, getting to the door in record time.

"She's upstairs," I say to the two women, "please hurry, she's in alot of pain!" They calmly pace upstairs as I walk itchingly behind them, why weren't they running? Can't they hear her cries?

The women calmly walk into the bedroom and start to set everything up. Katniss continues to scream out in anguish, eyes closed tightly. One of them go to Katniss, lifting up her skirt to check on everything. "She's to dilated for pain meds. This baby is coming fast. We need to get it out now." the other midwife scurries to Katniss's side, there supplies now set up.  
"No… It hurts…please…" She whimpers out, "please I need the medicine! Please!"

I stand aside and watch the women fuss over a frightened Katniss. I was instructed to stay out of the way but how on earth could I stand aside when she was this afraid?

"Wait, what do you mean she can't have any medication?" I say to one of the women, "what's going on?" she stops for a brief moment before calmly telling me to be patient. "She's in pain," I explain to the midwife in a humble tone, "can't you do something?" she shakes her head.  
"If we do, it could harm the baby, we don't want that, plus she's ready to deliver now," she says before getting back to work. This was all happening so quickly, didn't labour usually last hours? What was wrong?

Katniss's head tips back as the nurse tells her that she need to push. "No! I can't! Hurts!" She cries out, the nurse wiping sweat from her forehead.

She nods,

"I know it hurts. Push through." The nurse holds Katniss's hand and helps her to sit up a bit, she takes a deep breath and pushes. It's obvious that the pain is almost too much as her body opens up. Before I know it, the baby is getting delivered. I was strictly told to not intervene, don't want any added stress upon Katniss, so I just hover, help out when I can, try to ignore Katniss's agonizing cries for help. Things seems to be going okay at first, but then the nurses seemed a little panicked.  
"Peeta," ordered the one by Katniss's side, "we need towels now." My body obeys and I race into the bathroom, grabbing as many towels as I could, but it seems that I wasn't quick enough because when I come back, the bed is thick with blood. The sight I see before myself sickens me to my core, a pale Katniss, her blood strewn over the nurses. I freeze, in shock, my body not responding to my brains pleas to move. "Peeta! Towels!" the woman yells, gesturing towards Katniss. I pry my eyes away from the blood, offering the linen to the midwife, "I'm kind of busy!" she retorts, "I need to be able to see why's going on. Clean away the blood," she barks again. I have to oblige, so I begin to wipe away at the steady flow coming from Katniss. I can't believe I've managed to keep down my last meal, it's just a red mess. But I have to soldier on, what I'm feeling now is nothing compared to the things Katniss must be experiencing at this point.

"What's happening?" Katniss wails, gripping the defaced sheets.

"Just push Katniss! Almost there!" the nurse yells.

"It's crowning," says the other. All I can do is mop up the litres of blood, making it easier to see. I can't let Katniss's cries get to me, I know she will be fine.  
"Push!" she commands again, coaxing a piercing scream from Katniss. A head, amongst the bloodied mess is a head. "One more push! One more!" she exclaims. And then there it is. There _she_ is. Silent at first but then she starts to cry, and its obscure because it's the most beautiful sound. The nurse clears her air ways, cuts the chord that connects her to her mother and wraps her in a clean towel before putting her in my arms. So small, so tiny and precious, a new life held in my grasp. How long had I waited for a miracle like this? It feels like an eternity but it's finally here, she has finally arrived.


	34. Chapter 34

So beautiful. The way her face crumples up when she cries, her pink gums exposed. Her thick blonde hair, shining. And then, when they open, those grey seam eyes that are so piercing, so like Katniss that it nearly bowls me over. Her tiny hands palm the air and I dandle my hand in front of her, letting her grip onto it. Her one tiny hand barely gets hold of only one of my fingers. I cannot wipe this smile from my face, and I know that to anyone watching I would be glowing. The baby's cries die down, leaving her eyes open, searching my own. Now that her whines have receded I can clearly hear the screaming.

Screaming? Why can I hear screaming?

Oh just look at those eyes, so much like her mothers. My head whips upwards and I scan the bed. The bleeding hasn't stopped. There's alot of red, even more than before. Katniss claws at her stomach, convulsing as the nurses pin her down to the bed.

"W-What's going on? What's happening!" I cry, inching closer to the scene. But I can't even hear my own words over Katniss's cries that fill the room. My lips tremble, my chest feels hollow, but I keep my daughter strong in my arms. Our baby, claws at the space between her and her mother, still keeping her eyes trained on me. I hold her up against my chest so that she is looking over my shoulder, my free hand supporting the back of her head. I couldn't help but notice how easy handling the child felt. I watch Katniss, wanting so badly to help, but frozen in place by fear and the baby. Her eyes roll back into her head, a cold gurgling sound coming from the back of her throat. I think she's trying to speak.

"Peet-" her bloodied hand reaches out in my direction. The nurses just hold her down, telling her that it's okay, tell her to close her eyes.

"Peeta!" I hear her conjure. Katniss becomes blurry, my vision shaded from the tears. I can't, I will not let this be the last memory I have of her, like this, dying right before my eyes. I pull Prue down so that her face is in my chest, obstructing her vision. She wouldn't remember it even if she saw it, but I don't want to risk it. But I know I will, I'll see this sight again, everynight. I recede until my back finds the wall. The nurses troubled and sympathetic faces lock onto mine, nodding, shedding tears of their own. They could forgive me, they won't blame me for leaving, they know she won't survive. My silent sobs protrude while I search behind me for the door knob. I can't look, I shouldn't look, but for some reason, I just can't take my eyes away. Probably because I don't believe this is happening, that I don't believe for a second that this is real. I find the cold metal that is the handle and twist. I take one last regrettable look at what is my wife. Her back arches, her face clad with tears and sweat, eyes clenched tight, balling up her fists. Was she screaming from pain? Or just terror, because she knew she was dying? Because she knows that leaving us isn't a choice.

I tear my eyes from her and hold Prue close, racing downstairs, away from her cries for help. I settle for the food cabinet. One because it smelt like flour, a comforting and familiar smell. And two, because it muffled her agonizing calls for me. I just cradle Prue in my arms, kissing her gently on the forehead, rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet. Katniss hasn't gone completely, I have her baby, our baby. And I promise that I'll live by this little girl, giving her the life she deserves, the life Katniss could never be here to help me with. I'll miss her, my little MockingJay, but I'll always have our memories. I close my eyes and see them; our days spent swimming by the lake, baking biscuits, having food fights with the left over icing, long walks that we shared hand in hand, the fact that she saved my life, her dead on our bed.

My eyes fly open and I try to steady my breathing. Half of me has been ripped apart, the girl I fought for is gone, never coming back. My body quivers as I try to cry silently. I hear her little gurgling, bubbly noise and look down at Prue, Prue Katniss Mellark. And suddenly it's like all the bad things in the world don't matter anymore, that no matter how much pain I've had to live through, everything was going to be okay in the end, because she is here for me. She cries again, louder this time. Did she know too? That her mother was dead? That she would never get to know her? Never meet the one who would look out for her not matter what?

The pantry doors fly open, "I found them," calls out the midwife, flashing me a somber smile, "We've been looking for you two everywhere." How long had we been in here? Only felt like a few minutes, but then the nurse helps me up and I notice that I'm stiff all over. Probably longer. "Peeta," she whispers, rubbing the side of my arm, "If you wanted to say goodbye, we've cleaned her up, she's upstairs?" she holds out her arms, offering to take the baby. So she is dead. I nod at the woman and carefully hand over Prue. I am reluctant at first but she would need to be feed anyway, and I would like a nicer vision for my last time with Katniss. My legs numbly take me up the stairs, my chest feeling empty. I think I'm still crying, my cheeks feel wet and my eyes raw and puffy. I find myself at the side of the bed, looking down at Katniss, who has been tucked in neatly. I hear the door click shut behind me, indicating that the nurses had left us alone. I expected to see some terrorized look to be left on her face, but what I find is peaceful, content. I can feel myself smile, the corner of my lip twitching as my muscles pull it up. Then I collapse down to my knees, a cry escaping me, "I'm sorry!" I call out, "it should have been me! I'm so so sorry!" my voice breaks at the strain of my words and my whole world seems to crumble around me. It was me that wanted a baby so badly, me that loathed to be a father. I pull myself together, not wanting to seem weak infront of Katniss. I want her to know that I'm strong, that I can take care of our child. Which was silly, considering the situation. I crawl up next to her on the bed and kiss her soft face. Her skin isn't warm anymore. I peck her once on her nose, once on her chin, once on either cheek and finally on her dried lips. I try to absorb as much of this feeling as I can, this will be the last time I ever see her. I pull away, looking at her eyelashes that sit in the gap of her closed eyes. Long and dark. She could pass for someone who was only sleeping. "I'm sorry," I begin, voice husky, "I'm sorry it was you and not me." I brush back her smooth hair. "I'm sorry that you will never see her grow up." I run the back of my fingers along her jawline. "I'm sorry for what you've been through." I trace the shape of her lips. "I'm sorry for letting you go." I lean in close, placing my lips on her cheek. "But most of all, I'm sorry that we have to say goodbye." I squeeze my eyes shut for a brief moment, letting the build up of tears fall down my face. I guess that was the thing everyone feared most, right? Saying goodbye.

Dear Katniss,

6 years today since you departed from our lives.

6 years today that we remember you as a person, as a rebel, as a fighter. Banners with your face line the buildings today, a sign of remembrance for The girl who brought down the capitol, who freed the lives of many. I tend to stay home on this day every year, I'd rather show my respects on my own.

I miss you. When I visit our place in the meadow, I can hear the whisper of your voice through the warm breeze. Your soothing words never fail to reach me, even now that It's hard to be without you though. Sometimes I just want to give into my heart wrenching sadness and fall apart. It would be so much easier to just let my mind go blank, take my own life. Maybe then I could feel your hyour gone. I still blame myself fully for your death and I know that I'll never be convinced otherwise. The guilt that I suffer from in each living moment is a reminder of why I must stay, that I must now live for the both of us. and holding mine again, your arms around my neck, holding me close, holding me together. But then I look down at our daughter and I know that giving up is not an option.

She's all I have left of you. She asks about you everyday. I tell her that you are safe up in heaven, looking over and protecting us. She tells me she knows, she knows that she's never alone. I saw her skipping around the backyard one afternoon, talking to no one. I asked if she had found an imaginary friend,

"No Daddy! Don't be silly! I'm talking to Mummy." I hope you can hear her, I hope she never stops talking to you. I love you more than anything. It's you that keeps me going. The memories that give me so much pain, are the ones that keep me from falling apart.

Love,

Forever and always,

Peeta.

The End.

Authors note; I would just like to take this opportunity to thank every single one of you who have read my Fan-Fiction. Who have put up with the short chapters and late posts. If it wasn't for you guys, I would have just ended it at chapter One, which probably would have been more painless anyway! Hahah! But seriously, Thank you so much for all your praise and positive words! You are all truly amazing, you've inspired me to continue with my writing. I love you all, And may the odds be ever in your favor.


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